


think pink

by apocryphiend (sweet_juju_magumbo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU - Human, Charlie and Castiel Friendship, Gen, M/M, Panties Kink, Valentine's Day, because we need more of it, but not really, its not that Cas doesn't like pink, nothing supernatural going on here, sorry bout it, there's just too much of it, too much pink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:45:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4615284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_juju_magumbo/pseuds/apocryphiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they called it PINK, they really meant it. Victoria's Secret is nothing if not pink.<br/>Castiel silently, but, also, obviously, kind of hates it. </p>
<p> “I’m actually here to find something for my boyfriend. I want to surprise him - he has a ‘thing’ for...” He gestures weakly at the pinkness in front of him.<br/>Castiel glances over at the red head. She beams at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	think pink

**Author's Note:**

> Mmkay. Have some odd Charlie and Castiel friendship because they warm my soul.  
> Enjoy, dears.

When they called it PINK, they really meant it. Victoria's Secret is nothing if not pink. 

Castiel silently, but, also, obviously, kind of hates it. 

Honestly, how many different shades of pink can they make underwear in? Even the lace and frill is pink. 

And on top of that are the rhinestone hearts.

It doesn't stop there. The perfume bottles stand in neat rows, all proudly pink, surrounded by water bottles and lotions all in various shades of the oppressive color. These, too, scream "Think Pink!" As does nearly every other product in the space. Not to mention the veritable blimps disguised as balloon hearts bearing the same slogan that are tethered all around the room. 

"Think Pink!" What does that even mean? He isn't sure he wants to know, if it could go any further than the nuisance that surrounds him. 

Castiel turns to search another stand and finds himself face to face with a full head of fiery, red hair. It is blessedly less _pink_ than everything around him, though perhaps no less startling. A sight for sore eyes, or so he tells himself. Particularly as he notices just how strongly his current feelings are clearly mirrored in the taut line of the mouth and the incredulous arch of the brows just beneath all of that red.

Castiel likes this woman already.

"Excuse me, I -"

"Whoa, dude, sorry abou-"

They both blink. The woman steps back, clears her throat.

"I'm guessing you hate all this early Valentine's Day crap as much as I do, huh?" she asks.

Castiel frowns. "Is _that_ why everything is so ... Pink?"

The woman claps a hand to his shoulder and laughs and laughs and laughs.

..... ..... .....

She chats amiably with him, or, perhaps, at him, about the evils of this particular calendar day. How it _totally commercializes love and emphasizes outdated ideals of heteronormativity as the status quo of a healthy and successful society_ or the fact that _the day should really be about promoting equal rights for all kinds of love_ because, _it only makes sense, even if you only look at it from a corporate, blood-sucking perspective, and if human decency and corporate agendas can meet in a vague middle ground and benefit the general populace, then maybe it’s a good fucking idea to invest in, you know?_

She turns to him from where they search through mountains of indistinguishable pink silk. "Gosh, sorry for spewing all this at you. I mean, I don't even know if you support LGBTQA+ rights, not that that would necessarily stop me from talking about it anyway. It's just, this is such a crap holiday, if you can even call it that, and you are seriously an amazing listener." She smiles at him again, and Castiel decides that she really does have a wonderful, friendly smile. It reminds him of Dean, that smile, how honest and open it is. 

"Actually, I am also a major proponent of LGBTQA+ rights. I agree wholeheartedly with everything you've said about the holiday and the corporate schemes attached." He shrugs. "However, I, uh,” he bites his lip, considering. She seems, if not trustworthy, definitely non-judgmental. 

“I’m actually here to find something for my boyfriend. I want to surprise him - he has a ‘thing’ for...” He gestures weakly at the pinkness in front of him.

Castiel glances over at the red head. She beams at him.

"Oh, well, aren't you dreamy? A decent human being, from the looks of it, totally hot, _and_ gung-ho about your boyfriend's kinks?" She bumps shoulders with him. Or, rather, bumps her shoulder against his arm. "I knew you were a secretly a big softie, despite your weirdly intense staring. One look at those baby blues and how could you not know?”

Castiel's cheeks burn, and he is alarmed at the thought that he likely matches nicely with the store.

"Ah - thank you?" He ducks his head and continues his search. Her laughter echoes out around them again, and he can't help but greet it's embrace with a small, pleased smile.

..... ..... .....

They continue browsing together, side by side, for some time.  
The woman speaks briskly, but not sharply, and Castiel is surprised at how familiar it seems - as if he were speaking with someone he had known for years. She jokes, she teases, and she laughs, not unkindly, at Castiel’s frustrations with his search. Especially when Castiel holds up a pair of pink silk panties and questions, out loud, whether or not its tensile strength is adequate for the bulk of a man his size. 

Does she laugh.

She also makes a point of ignoring those who glance their way with pursed lips or narrowed eyes. Apparently, she feels no qualms about her volume, and Castiel is grateful for it. It fills what otherwise would have been an obnoxious semi-silence (the music is played _much_ too loudly here) in a haze of pink and cloyingly sweet perfume.

Of course, the pink and the perfume remain omnipresent regardless. Unfortunately.

Nonetheless, Castiel cannot help but feel that he has made a friend in the most unlikely of situations. Yes, he is certainly grateful.

..... ..... .....

As they make their purchases and head out of the store, Castiel’s companion is suddenly struck dumb, interrupting what had been an extremely intriguing and bizarre account of an old woman that had stalked and nearly killed her current girlfriend. 

She stops in the middle of the mall, places a hand on Castiel’s arm. “Do you realize that we don’t even know each other’s names?” she asks, wide eyed.

Castiel considers, and nods.

She blinks up at him, incredulous. “Uh, does that not faze you at all? Because I’m finding it really fucking surreal,” she says.

“I suppose introductions just didn’t seem necessary,” Castiel says. “Speaking with you felt like something I had done many times before. Which, looking back on it, seems somewhat strange, though very much true.”

“Like I said, fucking surreal. But I do agree with you.” She squeezes his arm, and upon release holds out her hand, very seriously, and straightens her shoulders. 

“Name’s Charlie Bradbury. Nice to meet you,” she chirps.

_Oh_ , Castiel thinks. Oh no. 

“Shit,” he says.

Charlie quirks her eyebrows at him, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t, I, well, I shouldn’t have,” Castiel splutters, stricken. “You’re Charlie.”

“Uh, yeah? Is there something wrong with my name?” She questions.

Castiel shakes his head and sighs. “No, no, of course not. It’s just,” he stops. Takes her little hand in his. “My name is Castiel Novak.”

And then she understands. Castiel cringes as the recognition in her eyes rapidly turns to amusement. He should have never have said a word, but it is too late now.

“Oh. My. God,” she breathes. “Oh my god.”

Castiel lets go of her hand, turns, and heads in the direction of his car.

She is right on his heels.

“You’re Cas!” she squeals. “You’re actually real!”

He glances over his shoulder at that. 

“Sorry,” she laughs, “it’s just, Dean told me so much about you, but I hadn’t met you yet, and you sounded too good to be true, so I mean, I had my doubts there for a while.”

“I’m glad I was able to clear up the question of my existence for you,” he bites.

Charlie lags behind, momentarily, no doubt in response to his tone. He knows he should not be angry with her, but he can’t help it. 

“Cas, come on, don’t be like that!” she pleads. “We were getting along so well. I mean, I get it, you’re upset because you spilled the beans about the whole panties thing -” he begins to walk faster “- but, I promise, I won’t say a word!!”  
Castiel spins, sharply, to face her. “Do you mean that?”

“Yeah, man, I really do. At least, not until after Valentine’s Day.” She winks at him, entirely suggestive and all too knowing.

He turns on his heel once more, stalking out the exit. “Dean is going to kill me,” he groans.

“Nah, he’ll probably die of embarrassment first,” Charlie replies brightly. She is skipping beside him. Literally skipping. 

Castiel glares at her, and she pales noticeably. He finds little satisfaction in it.

“Hey, now, don’t blame me for this. You’re the one who said anything in the first place. I probably would have just thought they were for a mistress or something.”

“A mistress??” He practically squeaks in surprise. They have reached his car.

She laughs again, with that laugh like a breeze, like an embrace, and suddenly the tension that had settled around them evaporates. Castiel feels that not much could withstand her explosive sunniness.

“Duh. No straight man buys fancy underwear or lingerie or whatever for a significant other,” she shoots. “That is definite mistress territory.”

“Well, you obviously would have been wrong in the assumption that I was straight,” he quips.

“Yeah, but to my credit, I’ve never met any gay man that enjoys wearing silk panties, either,” she says.

He huffs. Shuffles his feet.

“Cas, are you pouting??” 

Castiel feels that burning in his cheeks once more, and, right on cue, it is accompanied by her generous laughter.

“I just.. ugh.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I know I shouldn’t have said anything, but, you were a stranger, someone I didn’t think I’d ever see again, and you were so friendly, and that store was so horrible. I really did appreciate your help, and your company.”  
He lays his head down on the roof of his car. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I could do to convince you to forget the whole thing?” He turns his head, peering helplessly at her where she stands.

Castiel wonders how he could have ever thought Charlie to have had a friendly smile. Now, she leers, and her eyes are positively wicked.

“Sorry, Cas,” she lies, “ but you know I can’t. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t take every opportunity to shamelessly torment him? Doesn’t Dean deserve a true friend, Cas?”

Charlie downright cackles at this point, and Castiel wants to punch himself in the face. Hard.

“But, I _will_ wait until after. Well. You know.” She claps him on the back and heads, presumably, to her own car. “I’ll see you around, McDreamypants! Tell Dean I send my love!”

And then Charlie is gone, and Castiel knows that he is done for.

..... ..... .....

As he drives away, Castiel cannot help but laugh at himself. And curse himself.

He curses his stupidity. And Charlie’s unnatural friendliness. And Valentine’s Day. 

But most of all, he curses Pink.

He believes that Charlie will keep her word. So, though he faces imminent death at the hands of what is sure to be an absolutely mortified Dean Winchester, at least he has one last hurrah to look forward to.

He grins. Supposes he’ll just have to make the most of it.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [ apocryphiend.tumblr.com ](http://apocryphiend.tumblr.com)


End file.
